“You shall have breakfast here.”
“Oh! Monsieur Paul, for heaven’s sake, pay no attention to what Freluchon says; you will see that we must go away again immediately.—At that party I had a scene, a quarrel, with a certain Monsieur Luminot, who lives at Chelles.”
“The ground of your quarrel—what was it?”
“The most serious imaginable, for a man of honor; he insulted the lady whom I love, he presumed to speak in contemptuous terms of Mademoiselle Agathe and her protectress, Madame Dalmont.—At first some ladies, intimate friends of Madame de Belleville, began to make those slanderous remarks which women are so adroit at flinging at people whom they detest; but luckily a man mingled in the conversation and chose to affirm what the women had said. I ordered him to take back his words; he refused and I struck him!”
“Ah! you did well!” cried Paul, grasping Edmond’s arm. “Insult Agathe! insult that good, honorable woman who has been like a mother to her! the wretches! But those remarks, those dastardly slanders, all were certainly prepared, concerted beforehand by Thélénie.”
“By Thélénie! Do you too know Madame de Belleville?”
“How nicely it comes about!” said Freluchon. “Parbleu! who doesn’t know that lady?—Oh, yes! there’s her husband, Chamoureau—he has no suspicion what she is.”
“Yes, messieurs, ten years ago that woman was my mistress, and she is the cause of my having passed my life since then in sadness and remorse. You shall know the whole story later; let us return to your duel.”
“When this Monsieur Luminot received my blow, he attempted to throw himself upon me.”
“And no one tried to prevent him,” said Freluchon. “Observe that the worthy man is a giant and could have crushed Edmond simply by falling on him. Luckily I arrived at that moment; I am not a giant—on the contrary, I am rather slender and fragile to look at! But beneath this feeble exterior, I carry a pair of small steel wrists which are equal to the best made at Birmingham. I grabbed Luminot by the waist, lifted him up, and tossed him at hazard. I believe that when he fell he damaged the husband of one of the harpies who began the scene; there was no harm done; I am only sorry that I didn’t pulverize those women at the same time. What horrid-tasting salt they would have made! It would have been excellent rat poison.”